


Sweet Understanding

by DryDreams



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ace Jon, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Humiliation, Jon Knows things, M/M, Multi, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Sub Martin, Subspace, Suspend ur disbelief about the office setup, Tim on the other hand......... :3, Trans Martin Blackwood, Verbal Humiliation, casual dom/sub, he only holds and kisses and orders in this one, this one is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams
Summary: “Oh but you wouldn’t, Martin… wouldn’t want to make a mess in Jon’s office, would you?”
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker
Comments: 35
Kudos: 291





	Sweet Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Some tiny warnings in the end notes!

It’s Jon who catches it this time, out of the corner of his eye. Usually Tim is more observant of Martin’s absentminded shifting but he’s not watching as Martin hooks one ankle behind the other and wiggles almost imperceptibly.

Jon raises an eyebrow and glances over at Tim, who is sprawled on the couch behind Martin’s desk, watching something on his laptop. Having lost the rock-paper-scissors game, Martin is the one wearing earphones and Tim is not, his video playing at a low volume. Knowing that Martin won’t hear over his music, Jon clears his throat pointedly. Immediately Tim looks over and when Jon directs him with a nod, they both watch as Martin shifts in his chair.

A wicked grin spreads across Tim’s face and Jon rolls his eyes. With no hesitation whatsoever, Tim shoves his computer off of his lap and stands, reaching Martin in two steps. Startled, Martin picks his head up and pulls out one earbud as Tim slips behind him and throws his arms around Martin’s neck.

“Can I help you?” Martin asks fondly, trying to turn and see Tim but failing rather spectacularly. Jon leans back in his chair, watching them intently. When Martin catches him watching, the look on his face goes from mildly amused to suspiciously flustered. “What’s happening?” He asks, tilting his head as Tim nuzzles into his neck. 

“Oh, nothing,” Tim says, muffled and reaches down to palm at Martin’s chest. 

“Hey!” Martin exclaims but makes no moves to escape, instead arching into the kneading hand. 

Jon quirks a small smile as Martin squirms again and squeezes his thighs together as Tim nips at his neck. Something close to panic crosses his face as he realizes that he’ll have to admit what he thinks he’s hiding if Tim keeps this up. 

“Are you alright over there, Martin?” Jon prompts casually.

Martin flushes a pretty red and grips the arm of his chair tightly. “I just…need to use the bathroom, that’s all— though I’d really like to continue whatever is happening here, after, I— if you’d just excuse me—“

“I don’t think so.” Jon says firmly. Tim shoots him a mischievous look and reaches down to press Martin’s wrists to the arms of the chair. 

Sputtering, Martin struggles slightly in Tim’s grasp. Jon knows immediately that he’s figured it out but that he’s going to play dumb anyways for the thrill of it. “What do you mean you don’t _think_ so, Jon?”

“Tell us to stop and we’ll stop, you know the drill.” Tim murmurs into Martin’s ear and then slips around to his front, scooting the chair back and pushing Martin’s legs apart. When he tips up Martin’s chin to kiss him and presses a knee between his thighs, Martin whines loudly. He doesn’t tell him to stop.

Jon knew he wouldn’t, knows Martin is desperate to be obedient, that he loves this. 

“I’m sure you can hold it, Martin, for us… because you’re a good boy.” Jon says and Martin shudders, groaning into Tim’s mouth.

“Are you a good boy, Martin? Will you do what we ask?” Jon presses. “Tim, let him answer me.”

Tim pulls back and Martin gasps like a fish out of water. His eyes are glassy; Jon knows he’s already slipped deeply out of control. “Yes,” it tumbles out of his pretty mouth. “Yes yes yes— _mnggph— Tim!”_ He yelps as Tim presses his knee harder against his crotch. 

“Does that hurt, baby?” Tim says, sickly sweet and taunting. 

“I just… I don’t know if I _can,_ I don’t—“

“Oh but you wouldn’t, Martin… wouldn’t want to make a mess in Jon’s office would you?” Tim says, kissing around Martin’s mouth instead of on it. 

Martin whimpers. “N-no…” He grinds against Tim’s knee, getting more desperate by the second. 

“Tim.” Jon commands and Tim pulls his knee back. Martin’s eyes quickly move back and forth between them, panicked as he loses the pressure. 

“No, no please I need—“ His hand twitches and then he edges it downwards. Tim catches it and clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Why should we let you rub your pretty clit on something when you can barely control yourself, hmm?” 

Martin groans in frustration, roughly twisting in his chair. He looks at Jon pleadingly and Jon raises an eyebrow, projecting _’you expect me to help you?’_ rather loudly. 

But he is graceful, and will offer the smallest mercies. “If you can let Tim eat you out without getting his face too dirty you can come here and rub on my thigh to make you feel better.”

Martin’s face twists with want and conflict. “I don’t… I… “ He doesn’t finish the thought, instead cutting himself off with a noise of frustration. 

Tim is already tugging at his belt, overeager. There will be no complaints if Martin fails, they all know that. Martin seems to barely notice, wriggling as Tim prompts him to lift his hips and peels off his trousers and briefs in one go. Before he drops to his knees, Tim smoothly turns Martin’s chair so he’s facing Jon. By this time Martin is chewing his lip and refusing to make eye contact, covering his face with one hand even as Jon stares. When Tim pushes his legs apart and spreads him with two fingers Martin tenses and shakes, the first few tears of humiliation and effort welling in his eyes. 

He wails and tries to scramble away when Tim dips his head and licks at his cock. “No, no no no I’m going to… I can’t hold it, Tim I can’t…”

“You can and you will,” Jon says threateningly and Martin finally looks at him with teary eyes. 

“Please, Jon, I— _hnng, ah—“_ Tim is happily doing his best but Martin is writhing in his hold, thighs locked around Tim’s head.

“30 more seconds.”

As if trying to calm down, Martin takes a deep shaky breath but his thighs do not budge. Tim makes a muffled, pleased noise and Jon sees his nails dig into the soft of Martin’s thigh.

There are 30 seconds of tense quiet, Tim’s eager mouth making the only sound as Martin squeezes his eyes shut and trembles. 

“Alright.” Jon says and Tim makes a disappointed sound as he pulls away. “You can clean him up later, Tim.”

Martin whines at that and scrambles to his feet, his knees nearly buckling. “Come on then,” Jon says gently and Martin nearly trips getting there but slides heavily into Jon’s lap, straddling his thigh. Desperately he pushes down against it and moves his hips in small, jerking circles. Jon can feel how he feels, how his stomach aches with the effort it’s taking to control himself, and the sharp arousal whenever he grinds his dick painfully against Jon’s jeans. The fabric is dampening, slick catching the light. 

Cupping Martin’s face with one hand, he leans up to press a kiss below his ear. “You’re doing excellent, Martin. How much longer do you think you can hold it for us, hmm?” 

Martin sobs. “I don’t know, Jon I— I feel like I’m going to _burst,_ it hurts…”

There’s a soft sound as Tim drops a towel onto the desk behind them and then sidles up to press against Martin’s back, slipping hands under his shirt. “Oh Martin,” he murmurs. “Look at you, so fucking desperate to piss. You’re already getting Jon’s trousers disgusting, pathetically rutting like this. You’re going to soak him if you can’t hold it, is that really what you want? To piss all over him like a toddler?”

Shivering, Martin shakes his head furiously and drags the back of his hand over his face. Jon tugs it away and wipes the tears off his cheeks for him. “N-no,” Martin stutters. “But, but… I can’t _forever…_ ”

“I suppose you will just have to deal with that failure then, won’t you dear?” Jon tips up his chin, forcing him to meet his eye. 

Martin’s mouth falls open as he pants, eyes hazy and heavy as he holds Jon’s gaze, eagerly drinking it in. 

Tim reaches around and drags his thumb across Martin’s bottom lip, then hooks a finger on the inside of his cheek and tugs. Martin makes a small, petulant noise of surprise and then moans, high in his throat. Tim grins and lets him go, wiping the spit on Martin’s tear streaked cheek. “You know what would fun?” He asks, and punctuates it by biting at Martin’s ear. 

Jon just shoots him a look, knowing what Tim wants and not entirely sure he wants to let him do it. But ultimately, it’s up to Martin, who gasps and hums as Tim sucks a bruise under his jaw. “Enlighten us, Timothy,” Jon says. 

“I think…” he trails wet kisses down the side of Martin’s neck. “I should fuck Martin with my fingers and see if he can come before he pisses himself.”

Martin groans, half with frustration and half with desperation and then cuts himself off with a high, shivering yelp as Tim drags fingernails up his thigh. All three of them know that the hypothetical Tim has proposed will not work out the way he proposed it. 

Jon eyes them both silently, rocking his thigh up to tip Martin towards him. Not at all in control of his larger motor functions other than the jerk of his hips, Martin tips, burying his face in Jon’s neck. His breath is hot and he smears tears and a bit of drool on Jon’s shirt. 

“What do you think of that, Martin?” He murmurs in Martin’s ear, slipping a hand under his shirt and tracing circles at the small of his back. “Use your words now, or I’ll make you.” 

“If I… if he does I won’t be _able_ to,” Martin manages, shivering away from the featherlight touches. Tim is already grabbing the towel and Jon makes a face at him. 

“Do you want him to, anyways?” 

Tim waltzes back over and presses a kiss to the top of Martin’s spine before sinking his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. With a yell, Martin jerks and Jon feels a small rush of wetness against his thigh. _“Yes,”_ Martin says pleadingly, “Yes, I want him too, yes!”

“Good lord,” Jon mutters. Martin isn’t going to last three seconds with anything inside of him, especially anything that will be pressing around. Tim gives Jon a triumphant, delighted look and winks. “You’ve got to turn around, Martin,” Jon prompts. 

It’s a bit clumsy but they manage to get Martin’s back against Jon’s chest, Tim putting a knee up on the chair between their legs to help with the precarious balance. Jon slips his arms under Martin’s and just holds him, pressing his face into his shoulder and peering over the top of it. He’s giving Tim the show, now. 

Martin is quiet save for his heaving breaths, thighs and stomach quivering as if he were out in the freezing cold. Wide-eyed, he stares up as Tim leans over them, one hand on the arm of the chair. When he slides his fingers through the mess between Martin’s thighs, both of them suck in a breath. Tim’s eyes are bright with want and there is red high on his cheeks. “Oh, _Martin,_ ” he breathes. “Such a messy, desperate boy.” 

Jon knows when Tim slips two fingers inside and crooks them because Martin jerks in his arms and shoves a fist in his mouth. Silently he tugs Martin’s hand away. 

Tim continues on spilling filth. “How are you doing, hmm? You’re gonna piss all over the floor because you couldn’t hold it, didn’t anyone teach you how not to piss on the floor, you little slut?” His wrist is moving steadily now and Martin is crying again, tears streaming down his cheeks. With mild amusement, Jon begins a countdown in his mind. Five… four… three… two…

And then Martin is sobbing and going boneless on his lap and Tim is groaning quietly, not stopping his movements as Martin fails to hold it any longer, soaking Tim’s hand and forearm. The towel Tim had put under their feet muffles the wet sounds but they’re still faintly audible and Jon hums, feeling the humiliation radiating off of Martin like heat. Before he’s even finished Tim dramatically picks up the pace, grinding his thumb against Martin’s dick. Martin’s writhing is less tense now, and he starts up again with high, desperate noises. 

“Come on, Martin,” Tim breathes. “You’re lucky we’re even letting you come after this filthy mess you made. All over me, all over Jon. I should make you _lick it off the ground.”_

With that, Martin is coming and Jon has to brace himself to keep them all upright as Martin tenses and shouts, hips jerking. To Jon’s mild surprise, Tim drops to his knees, still rubbing Martin through his orgasm somehow effectively as he fumbles at his pants. Clumsily he shoves his free hand in and after a few short moments he’s coming too, with a lovely low moan. As Martin goes quiet Tim drops his head, resting it on the inside of Martin’s thigh. They’re both breathing heavily, sticky messes and Jon smiles against Martin’s shoulder. His sticky messes.

It’s Martin who speaks first as Jon pets absentmindedly at his stomach. “Holy fuck.” He says simply, wiping at his eyes and Tim laughs. When he looks up at them his hair is plastered to his forehead and he’s grinning somewhat weakly. 

“You’re gorgeous, Martin,” he says and Martin blushes, shifting so that he can attempt to push himself to stand. 

“Don’t try it,” Jon says threateningly. Martin frowns but settles back down, sideways this time so he can close his legs and huddle against Jon’s chest. 

“This can’t be comfortable, Jon, I’m rather heavy and now I’m all wet.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “My legs haven’t fallen asleep yet and yours certainly won’t hold you. Give it a moment.”

Tim stands up just fine, only wobbling slightly as he kisses Martin firmly, careful not to touch with his now equally dirty hands. “‘M going to go get another towel and… another towel,” he says, making a vague hand motion. 

Martin laughs, an air of disbelief in it. “It’s amazing that between the three of us we have managed to be prepared for messes.” He pauses for a moment, watching Tim head to the cabinets on the other side of the room. “Were you two _planning_ this?” 

Jon shrugs. “Sort of.” He says simply. Martin just shakes his head. 

“You certainly keep me on my toes.”

Jon pauses. “You liked it then?” He asks, hopefully. Martin bursts out laughing and across the room, Tim snickers too.

Frowning, Jon pinches him lightly and he wiggles, still laughing. “Oh my God, Jon. Yes. Did you not do it in the first place because you looked into my brain and found out my secret desires, or something?” 

Tim throws a clean towel as he returns, hands moderately dry now and Martin catches it. “Actually, it was my idea,” Tim says smugly.“You’re very blushy when you’re getting secretly horny for something.”

“I did confirm it for him, though.” Jon adds, petulantly. “So that we could… pull this off. You know. Spontaneously.”

“Ridiculous.” Martin shakes his head. “My life is ridiculous. Yes, though. I liked it, I’m still shaking, and my eyes have been opened, pardon the pun. I can’t believe you got Jon on board with making this much of a mess, though, Christ.” 

To Jon’s dismay, Tim sits on the desk beside them, swinging his feet. “All I had to do was tell him rather explicitly how much you’d get off on it and he agreed.” 

Jon’s face reddens as Martin looks at him wide-eyed. “Oh?” 

“I enjoy seeing you… pleasantly compromised.” Jon says with some effort and Martin bites his lip as he smiles. “You knew that already, though.” Jon adds. 

“Mmhm.” Martin hums and kisses him. Happily, Jon lets him lick into his mouth for a long few moments, until Tim wolf whistles at them. Martin grins as he pulls away and Jon glares. His expression softens when Martin presses a kiss to his cheekbone, and Tim’s smile turns incredibly fond. 

“You were _lovely,_ Martin.” Jon says reverently. 

There’s a moment of silence, and then Jon adds. “And very good, and not gross, even though we said—“ 

“Christ, Jon.” Tim interrupts him. “He knows. We love him very much. We just need to get Martin some new pants, and maybe me as well, and go be in a pile on the couch, now, please. Then we can go to someone’s flat and take showers and make sure like always that he doesn’t get a sex hangover and it will all be extra lovely.” 

Martin tiredly puts his head on Jon’s shoulder, eyelids starting to droop. “Yes, please.” He says, softly. 

Tim hops off the desk and nudges the pile of wet towel on the ground with a foot. “Smells like sex in here,” he says with a wicked smile. “Elias would be pissed.”

Martin snorts. “Pissed.” He says simply and Tim cackles with laughter, bending over with it. Jon rolls his eyes. 

“You should all be fired,” he says and Tim laughs harder, Martin snickering with him.

“Yeah, Jon. Yeah we should.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This one is hoooo so I figured I’d leave some quick notes in case ppl wanna know
> 
> -Martin’s dick is referred to as a dick but Tim does use clit in dirty talk, this is chill with all parties  
> -Martin says no a lot but that is not the established stop word and all parties know this  
> -There is name calling and taunting during dirty talk 
> 
> THANKS FOR READING HOPE U ENJOYED


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